


One long night

by cheshirejin



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:23:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirejin/pseuds/cheshirejin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title: One long night<br/>Author: cheshirejin<br/>Fandom: hetalia<br/>pairing: Germany/Italy<br/>Germany has someone on his mind and it is driving him crazy.</p>
<p>AN: Was a bakeoff fic but it found some steroids somewhere and refused to get down to 300 words again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One long night

“Ok, get a hold of yourself,” Germany chided himself mentally as he lay awake late into the night. He was a mess. His nerves were shot and it felt as if he were awaiting his own impending doom. All because of the small Itallian man sleeping next to him, snoring lightly, slightly drooling from the corner of his mouth onto his pillow, and very naked.  

He had never had a problem with this before. Oh, well yes at first waking up to a strange naked man in his bed had been kind of annoying and, maybe a little, frightening…er unnerving, but he had somewhat gotten used to it over the time they had been friends and it hadn’t bothered him in a very long time. Until now; he couldn’t even remember how the whole thing had started. He hadn’t felt right since the embarrassing, train-wreck proposal incident that he refused to think about ever again. There had to be something that broke inside of him back then.

His current problem had started when he had been listening to Italy tell him something about the right kind of pasta for warm weather. As he talked Germany had found his attention focused more and more on Italy’s rosebud pink lips. He hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten until he found himself kissing Italy, who actually kissed him back quite passionately. It was like opening a floodgate of emotions he had where the other man was concerned. He was a little lost in the moment, feeling and tasting as much if Italy’s mouth as he could, and then ** _it_** happened.

He swore there was no way another man could get that kind of reactions from his trouser wurst, but there it was, straining toward the sun and totally shattering the idea that he could never have those sort of feelings for a male. It had been something he had assured himself with the horrible, never to be thought of again situation he put himself into with Austria the night before the train-wreck proposal incident that he still refused to think about ever again.

The kiss had lasted a few long moments; the ramifications were going to scar him for life. It had been a little awkward at the time, Italy had giggled inanely and told him he wasn’t bad at kissing, but he needed to go get the pasta finished before it burned, and they had gone on with their day as if it hadn’t happened.

Now all Germany could think about was the man curled up against his side, and whether or not he was going to react in that way again if he relaxed his guard.  This was going to be a long night.

  
  



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